


Rising Sun

by Endless_Ocean (Illusionary_Oblivion_25)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-19 06:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10634064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusionary_Oblivion_25/pseuds/Endless_Ocean
Summary: Yan continued to glare at him. "I stole your money.""Yes.""You threatened to turn me in.""Yes.""Generally, stealing from someone like you means a one-way trip to the bottom of the ocean, or six feet under.""Yes.""You've done neither...""Yes." Joker's voice had an amused lilt at that."And you want me to... do what, exactly?""Tell me your name." The answer was as simple as it was aggravating, and the teenager huffed.~*~A boy dreams of having everything he's never known. In the Golden Age of Piracy, having dreams is normal, but so is sacrificing something important to gain something else. When you're dancing on a puppet's strings, do you at least dance to your own beat?(There will be some foul language. OC-centric, and contains mentions of canon-x-OC in the past.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, I'll be using a lot of the Japanese terms from the series, rather than their English equivalents. I should also probably mention that this story will deal with my own theories about certain details of the One Piece world, so if there's something that seems out of place, that's probably what it'll be. Also, yes, I have made up some Devil Fruits for these characters, and all of them --I think, anyways-- are viable Fruit powers. That all being said, I hope you enjoy! :)

_You know, sometimes it’s pretty unbelievable how we got to where we are. I mean, even I have trouble remembering the ragtag group of misfits this crew used to be… at times, anyways –and I’m no slouch when it comes to believing things, let me tell ya! Hey, why the smirk?! It’s just that so much has happened since then, so much that the past is a bit like a dream… A crazy dream that basically started as a nightmare._

_But, I can tell I’m getting ahead of myself. Here, let me explain, then you’ll see._

_I guess it all started when I was nine, and I tried to grab some food, this one particular day. As a kid, I didn’t really have any money –or really that much of anything– so… I’m sure you can guess where this is going, right? Heh, the shopkeep naturally wasn’t very happy about that…_

_I wonder if he remembered me from the very first time I met him, before that? Not that it really matters, I suppose… not yet, anyways. Back on topic! Bithy was a big guy, a so-called ‘ex-crook’ who liked to pretend that he wasn’t going bald and always had this really slimy smile on his face. Can you tell I really don’t like him?_

 

-~-*-~-

 

“Get back here, you little runt! At least have the balls to pay for what you grab!!”

 

The burly man’s bellowing did little to stir up the crowd, despite his best efforts. Sweat poured down his reddened face and his chest heaved with every laboured gasp. All around him, the street was filled with onlookers, yet no-one made a single move to help. There was no law on the island of Jaya, after all, no reason to go out of your way to do anyone any favours.

 

Bithy grit his chipped teeth, focusing his attention on just one person instead. Ahead of him by several springy strides was a lanky boy, dirty from blond-crowned head to bare toe and bearing an infuriatingly unapologetic grin. A vivid cyan fruit was grasped firmly in one of the child’s hands –a hand that he had raised to wave gleefully in the air– even as the fleet-footed brat wove through the crowd, just out of his reach. All around them, rolled eyes, annoyed frowns, muttered curses, and harsh grunts were the only responses the crowd offered as it shifted to avoid being barrelled into by either male.

 

Just another normal day in Mock Town.

 

“You sure you want it back so bad?” the boy jeered back over his shoulder, still not out of breath, even after his breakneck sprint away from Bithy’s storefront. His grin somehow managed to widen even further before the brat tightened his grip on his prize and continued matter-of-factly. “I got street-germs, ya know. That’s what ev’ryone says, and I betcha heard it, too; ‘Yan’s dirty and got germs’. So you can’t sell it now.”

 

At that, the red-faced vendor let out a wordless growl and lunged at the thief, who ducked nimbly under his arms and to the side, laughing when he heard pounding feet and heavy breathing in his wake. Didn’t Bithy know that this was just a game? Yan snickered as he raced down the road with renewed fervour, turning down a side-street as he reached it and finally starting to feel the beginnings of burning in his chest and legs. The blond boy wracked his memory of the town’s layout, trying to map out his escape, quite certain that his pursuer hardly cared about the theft anymore, and was just angry.

 

Angry meant dangerous, and –reckless or not– even Yan couldn’t handle these games when they got too out of hand. With Bithy’s harsh gasps bearing down on his heels, he had to end this sooner rather than later.

 

He was concentrating so much on staying just ahead –but not too far, not yet, not when he was still playing– of the old man, and weaving between people and boxes and barrels and buildings and stalls, that he missed his intended escape route… by at least three turns. Instead, the blond boy found himself skidding to a halt, staring down one of the many dilapidated alleyways throughout Mock Town. Old wooden crates had been piled precariously-high against the far wall, each box having long lost the strength to withstand more than it already did, even his own small weight. Yan spun on his heel, breathing deeply, trying to force his lungs to stop crying out.

 

Bithy’s broad sweaty chest was right in front of him. The shopkeeper made a grab for his hands, but he pulled away quickly, just in time to avoid the man’s sausage-fingers. “Don’t… play… with… me, ya damn brat…! That there fruit is worth more than you’ll ever have, in your entire life!!” Yan’s pursuer snarled between heaving, rattling breaths, and the boy allowed himself a moment to admire the dark purplish-red the man’s skin had become, even as a large and very beefy hand was held out expectantly, and even as he edged slowly away from him and closer to the rotten crates. “Just hand it over, boy-o, and we can forget this even happened…”

 

Yan paused, raising his prize up to eye level –being careful to keep the elder in his line of sight at the same time– and made a show of scrutinising it. In truth, the fruit looked entirely innocent, if a little strange. It could have passed for some kind of thin-skinned orange, if not for the colour, the spikes coming off of it at almost every angle, and the swirling patterns that coiled towards the centre of the fruit from each point… and it was glowing dimly, which had been what drew the boy to take it over all the others at Bithy’s stall in the first place.

 

“More than I’d ever have? But how’d you know that? You see the future, old man?” Yan peered up at him, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow. Bithy didn’t bother offering any response other than to bounce his hand a little in mid-air. Yan’s attention returned to the thing in his hand, humming lowly as he turned it over for a few moments before nodding his head sharply. “Okay. I will”

 

“Ya will? Good, no mo––… The hell ya doin’, kid?!!”

 

The blond’s face scrunched up in disgust, even as should-have-been-much-tastier-than-this juice dribbled down his chin and over his fingers. After chewing very deliberately –and perhaps just a little showily, because there really wasn’t any reason to open his mouth that widely– he forced the mouthful down his throat and took another bite out of the foul-tasting thing; he was positive that it was no kind of fruit that he’d ever even heard of, now, and if it wasn’t for the distinct lack of green or white fluffiness upon the skin… well, he’d have bet anything that it was terribly off, or at least overripe. Still, food was food, so he couldn’t really complain.

 

…It still tasted disgusting, though… and yet the look on Bithy’s face made it more than worth the assault on his tastebuds.

 

“You… You… You…!” The man was spluttering, opening and closing his mouth in a rather excellent impression of a fish, which was a far sight better than the usual sly smile. “That’s a… a few… hundred million… beri… you just ate… at least…!”

 

Yan snorted and levelled him with his best deadpan stare. “This stuff is worth a few hundred million? Sheesh, do rich people have no sense of taste, or something?” he drawled, mimicking some of the tones he’d heard Bithy use when trying to get people’s money. It was only when the last of his stolen lunch disappeared into his mouth –and when he’d forced himself to swallow it down– that the barrel-chested shopkeeper snapped out of his stupor, charging forward like an angry bull with an equally-enraged roar. The boy was taken by surprise, and he barely even had the time to brace his feet and start to raise his arms to cover his head against the inevitable collision…

 

The roaring suddenly transformed into a shrill scream that was entirely out of place, and an oddly-soft impact followed by a sort of warm tugging sensation bled throughout Yan’s body. It took a moment for the situation to register in his brain; he wasn’t hurt, nor was he on the ground… Red-amber eyes snapped open to look frantically around the alleyway. There was no sign of the furious old man in front of him, nor to the side…

 

The scent of burning flesh seared the blond’s nostrils, making his eyes begin to water, and all it took was one single glance behind him to see the reason why… in all of its horrifying glory.

 

Bithy’s body still writhed on the ground, bathed in white-yellow flames, twisted and squashed almost beyond recognition.

 

-~-*-~-

 

_Yep, that’s how I got and first used my very own super-special, once-in-a-lifetime power! Okay, okay, I’ll do this more seriously… I guess it’s kinda on the gruesome side, though, isn’t it? But hey, once I got the hang of it –which didn’t take that long, actually, unless you’re meaning actually working on mastering it, in which case I’m probably still not quite there yet– I didn’t really ‘burnity-squish’ anyone again… shut up, that’s what I called it, back then._

_I hope you’re not too grossed-out by the whole ‘charred carcass’ thing, by the way, as it’s kinda what happens if people get burned that badly. It was pretty damned obvious that my new power was fiery, too, considering what happened. And hey, I said I’d explain the whole thing, didn’t I?_

_Oh? I, uh, didn’t, did I? Eh, whatever. You get the idea._

_Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah… I was gonna move on to how I met the others who set off from Jaya with me. You might wanna make sure you’re comfortable, this’ll take a while…_

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of roasting flesh was entirely different when the creature had just been speaking only minutes beforehand, and bile began to sear the back of Yan’s throat. Tearing his eyes away from the sight, the nine-year-old backed away from it as quickly as his shaking legs could take him, swallowing the rancid taste down again and again, and making it as far as the alley’s mouth before he turned and started to run once more… Anything to get away from what had just happened.

 

The sudden change of pace didn’t last for very long, however, as Yan only managed to reach the next corner before the gagging became too much.

 

-~-*-~-

 

_Oh-kay, I am NOT going to tell you how that looked or felt, any more than I already have! I threw up, alright? Yes, even I vomit, on occasion. Get it? Got it? Good! Uh, right, I should tell you more before I cut in like this, so… back to the story._

 

-~-*-~-

 

Yan braced one hand against his knee, wiping his mouth clean of any residue with the hem of his shirt even as shudders began to rock his entire body. The people passing by paid him no mind other than to scowl between him and the lumpy puddle by his feet, drawing a scowl of his own to the boy’s face, but they soon paused and moved away from him when yelling started to kick up near the alley he’d left. His heartbeat sped up again and his body snapped upright.

 

It was time to disappear, before anyone actually looked at him properly.

 

Taking a few deep breaths, the blond began walking away as quickly as he could, shoving his trembling hands into his pockets. He briefly contemplated getting something else to eat, but another twist in his gut quickly quelled that idea. Better to go hungry for a day than to waste food when he just couldn’t guarantee to keep it down… probably, anyways.

 

Just ten minutes later found Yan at the southern edge of town, his red-amber eyes scanning the sky above him, trailing from one cloud to another as if following an invisible path. After about another minute, he nodded to himself and continued to walk towards the bay in the centre of the island. It didn’t take him very long to reach the coast, and soon enough he was continuing to go south, following the water’s edge all the way to the mouth of a river that lay in the southwestern corner of the island. He stopped here, plopping down on the grass with his arms around his bony knees.

 

“So much for today… that was no fun at all.” Yan grumbled, tightening his hold in an effort to stave off the nagging pain in his gut, glad that at least his stomach was no longer lurching. The boy’s gaze swept from horizon to horizon in one smooth motion, then he held his hands up in front of him. “But… what’d I do? Ain’t never seen no-one burn like that…” He trailed off, wincing and shuddering violently as the image flashed before his eyes once more, and he swallowed thickly.

 

Now wasn’t the time to be a kid, Yan hissed mentally as he bit into his lower lip harshly, only to yelp and spit out what he could of the small trickle of blood that his teeth drew. He could go back to being a kid tomorrow. Today, he needed something else… besides, it wasn’t like he’d liked the old fruit-vendor, so why should he care if the man was dead?

 

Dead… the word made him shake yet again. Suddenly, something else shoved its way into his mind, and he focused back on his raised hands. “Maybe this could actually be a good thing? What if that fruit was one of those things pirates talk about?”

 

He thought back, trying to recall not only what his ex-lunch had looked like, but also what the rowdy and violent visitors to Mock Town had told him; fantastical stories about far-off places and amazing adventures… and terrifying powers that had only served to make the blond all the more fascinated. So many of them had also been too drunk to pay him much heed, allowing his nimble fingers to slide in and out of their pockets with relative ease, if he managed to get close enough during their stories.

 

‘There’s these weird fruits –called Devil Fruit– all over the world,’ one man once told him, ‘that give you some crazy powers when you eat them.’ Yan could remember a bristle-covered chin as he zeroed in on that particular memory. ‘You can only eat one, though, and don’t do it at all if ya like swimming.’ Wait, no swimming…? He huffed. That… could be a problem. However, the memory still had more to tell him. ‘You can always tell if you found one of them, too, because they’ve all got the same swirl patterns on them…’

 

“So, was that one of them?” the boy pondered aloud, trying to recall the sensation from before. It wouldn’t do him any good at all, if he couldn’t use it when he wanted to.

 

At first, nothing happened. His body felt and looked entirely normal. As the seconds ticked by, Yan noticed something strange; his fingertips seemed to be turning black while growing steadily warmer, at the same time. The blackness spread over his hands until it reached a third of the way up his arms, and then the very same white-yellow fire that had engulfed Bithy sparked to life, some even coiling around his fingers like fiery snakes, and his skin glowed bright white where the flames licked at his flesh.

 

Yan yelped, jumping to his feet and rushing to the water’s edge to drive his arms into the seawater. A rush of salty steam billowed into his face almost instantly, but the flames and discolouration quickly disappeared as well. Coughing and gasping for air against his once-again-racing heartbeat, he sat back down in the wet sand.

 

“This is gonna take a bit of getting used to…” he muttered with a note of bitterness, before bursting out into breathy chuckles. “What the heck did I get myself into?”

 

-~-*-~-

 

_I didn’t go back to Mock Town for a few days after that. There was this cave on the northern bank of the river that I used as a sort of hideout; I found it during the previous summer, and thought it’d be cool to dig it out further while looking for treasure… I never found anything there, but it was still fun to do._

_Bithy’s death kinda ate at me for a bit –knots in the stomach, shaking hands, nightmares… the works. That said, I sure as hell don’t regret it, especially not now. The bastard deserved what he got, and I’ll tell you why… with a bit of context, naturally._

 

 


	3. Chapter 3 - Flashback (age 4) pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The focus in this chapter kind of hovers around a little. I was trying to keep it progressing the story, but it’s hard when the usual focal character is so young… So, sorry in advance if this is a bit more confusing…! ^_^;

Four-year-old Yan hovered by the entrance to his grandparents’ bedroom, clutching onto the doorframe with his face scrunched up. His grandfather –a farmer named Rudolph– sat on the bed with his fingers threaded through his short grey hair. One of the old man’s arms was bandaged from wrist to elbow, and he hissed and winced when he twisted it just a little too much, causing Yan’s expression to falter for a moment at the sight of thin red lines blooming on the white cloth.

 

The old man sighed heavily as he turned his head to pin the young blond with a piercing stare. “Well, Yan, what do you have to say for yourself?” Rudolph asked, keeping his voice level, if a little stern.

 

Gathering all of the petulance that a child his age could, Yan pushed out his lower lip and stared at the floor between them. “Nuffin’, Pa…” he grumbled. “You say I can’ reach so far, so I did nuffin’.”

 

Scoffing slightly, Rudolph lowered his hands to his lap. “You need to stop talking about such nonsense… but more importantly, you need to stop sneaking out of the house, off to who-knows-where, at any hour of the day or night. It’s a wonder you even manage to come back to us each time, let alone that you haven’t been terribly hurt yet.” He watched Yan shift his weight from foot to foot, arching an eyebrow when the budding escape-artist said nothing to defend his actions. “I think that your granma Martha has been far too much of a pushover for your wily nature.” Rudolph continued with a small smile.

 

Yan’s dour expression melted away at the mention of his grandmother, leaving behind a strangely-foxish grin for such a young boy. “Granma said she’s makin’ cakes! I want cakes!” Before anything more could be said, a loud knock sounded throughout the house. Wide fire-coloured eyes blinked. “Did they know we got cake?”

 

With chuckle followed by a slight grimace, Rudolph pushed himself to his feet and made his way for the front door, Yan at his heels, even as Martha’s voice rang out. “I’ll get it!”

 

By the time they reached the entryway, she had already opened it and three huge men stood on the other side. Each of them bore crooked smirks on their faces, and one was even cracking his knuckles loudly. The shortest of the strange trio stepped forward, his smirk turning smarmy.

 

“Can we help you?” Martha asked stonily, after a full minute had passed. The aproned woman drew herself up to her full –if somewhat meagre– height. “I’m afraid I don’t know how much we mere farmers could be able to help men such as you, however.”

 

“The name’s Bithy, ma’am, and I think y’can help us a bunch. Y’see, we’re in the…” the man paused, looking up and to the side for a moment while he contemplated his next words. “The real estate business. Our office got destroyed in that last storm we had, and we was hopin’ to use part of yer property in the meantime.”

 

Rudolph stepped forward to stand by his wife’s side, resting his injured arm across her shoulders. “That sounds quite unfortunate for you.”

 

Yan looked between each of the adults in turn as they talked, pouting a little. He wanted some of his grandmother’s cake, after all, and he’d even been good and not run off… for a little while, anyways. Besides, something about these strangers made him want to close the door in their faces, regardless of the scolding he’d get for it.

 

Oblivious to the child’s thoughts, Bithy continued to speak. “It was, yeah, ‘til we saw this place. I thought to myself, ‘Bithy, that there farm’d be just perfect for you and yer boys’.” He smirked widely, showing off his chipped teeth. “So, there is a way ya can help us… and that’s by one of th’following: let us do our thing, pack up an’ leave, or I guess you folks can choose t’die, if ya really want to.” As the words left his mouth, the others squeezed past him and through the doorway, their huge hands already clenched in anticipation.

 

Martha frowned, glancing at her husband’s carefully-blank expression, then her eyes flicked to where their grandson stood before returning to their uninvited visitors. “…Surely you can give us some time to consider our answer?” The two larger men exchanged glances, then looked back at Bithy in unison, who crossed his arms and tilted his head back with a loud hum. After a few seconds, she turned her head to look back at Yan. “Sweetie, could you go see if there are any pieces of fruit left on the table? Have a snack while we wait for our bigger treat, hm?”

 

Yan nodded, eager to have an excuse to get away from the adults. Just as he reached the dining room, he heard Bithy say, “I didn’ realise ya had a kid with you. Prob’ly a good thing, though. He could show us ‘round the place after yer gone.”

 

“You can’t possibly expect us to let you––…!” Rudolph exclaimed harshly before a loud crack cut him off, followed by a heavy thud, and then a muffled shriek that sounded a lot like Martha.

 

All those noises made Yan freeze for a moment. What was happening in the front room? His grandmother sounded scared, maybe even hurt… The four-year-old gulped and looked around the room for some hints for ‘what next?’ Nothing leapt out at him, so he climbed onto one of the chairs around the dining table so that he could do as he was told, grabbing the last apple and stuffing it into one of the pockets in his shorts.

 

As he slid back to the floor, the young blond made up his mind, nodding to himself. Granma Martha said nothing about coming back to the front room and getting the nasty old men to go away, and maybe he’d get a little more cake for helping his grandparents get rid of them, and maybe they’d also forget that he hadn’t had his nap today… or maybe even that he’d hurt his granpa and really didn’t mean to…! That would actually be really good.

 

Yan giggled a little, slinking across to the far side of the hall and pressing himself against the wall; he was sneaking up on the adults, which meant that he had to be sneaky, that was just the way things worked. He could still see at least one of the strange men in the entryway, but heard nothing other than low murmurs from them until he was just outside of the room and peeking around the corner.

 


End file.
